


Arthur's Lines

by CQueen



Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-17
Updated: 2017-03-24
Packaged: 2018-09-25 03:54:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,220
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9801569
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CQueen/pseuds/CQueen
Summary: When Eames ropes Arthur into taking a job he knows the point man doesn't want just so that he can work, and sleep, with the other man again, he knew there'd be some trouble.  He didn't expect it to be quite this bad, or that the actions of their fellow coworkers would finally clue him into where he's been going wrong all these years.  Now the only question is...can he respect Arthur's lines?  And will Arthur give him the chance to prove that he can?





	1. Lines Are Drawn

Disclaimer: As always I own nothing but the original characters and the plot. Thanks and enjoy.

Lines Are Drawn

The tension in the room was thick, like they were all stuck in maple syrup mixed with an impending electrical storm that threatened to send the occupants of said room crashing to the floor in a spasm of contorting, uncontrollable seizures. Well everyone but Arthur, Eames speculated with dark humor, his mind unable to imagine his darling point man in such a state. Arthur would never allow his body to be out of his control or his clothes mussed that way. The man's head would explode from the force of his concentration first.

Only another ten minutes to go though, and then they would all be free until tomorrow, when then tension would no doubt continue to make Eames so very, very sorry that he'd called in the favor Arthur had owed him for this job.

A job that was below his darling's usual standards, he'd known that going in. Just as he'd known that Arthur wasn't terrible fond of his mate Hugh, who was the extractor for the gig, though apparently their mutual distain for each other had evolved into outright loathing since the last time he'd seen the two working together.

And the two women in the room weren't helping matters either.

The architect was relatively new to the scene, a gorgeous bit of ass and tits that in personality reminded Eames a great deal of a younger version of himself, which meant that they got along fabulously even as she irritated Arthur quite a bit. And the other woman, well normally Eames enjoyed being around Emma immensely, as she was a darling girl, but pregnancy had left her prone to crying jags and morning sickness something awful. And being around Tasha, who was being more than a little flirty where Hugh, Emma's husband, was concerned, wasn't helping her hormones one little bit. It also didn't help that Tasha didn't look like she'd swallowed a beach ball, and was showing that off in a very fitted bandage dress. Emma waddled when she walked, poor dear.

Though currently Emma was sitting on one of the lawn chairs and sulking, having blown up at Arthur an hour or so ago when he'd told her she should go back to the hotel to rest and leave them to their work. The point man had handled her fury with his usual poise and cool control, but still, Eames had seen the other man rubbing his temples more than once since then. And Arthur was drinking more coffee than was usual for him given the late hour, not that Eames had dared to comment on that.

He'd like to keep his head and share Arthur's bed later, thank you very much. And it was the latter desire that had gotten him into this pickle in the first place, since a joint job was the only time he and Arthur ever hooked up.

And naturally he was the only one who wanted more than that, Arthur never so much as hinting at having an interest in sharing a drink, much less a bed with him unless they were working together. When it was just convenient for them to get off together rather than go seeking release elsewhere.

Gambling wasn't the only area in which Eames's luck did more than just suck.

But at this point he was willing to take what he could get where Arthur was concerned, the point man too fascinating to stay away from for long. His only real addiction these days, Eames ruefully acknowledged, as he'd regretfully given up smoking, excess alcohol, and even gambling now that he had unfortunately grown up enough to realize that any of those three things were more likely to get him killed then his profession. Not that Arthur was a safer addiction, of course.

No one could wound a man quite like Arthur, whose last name he still didn't know after working with him for over six bloody years.

"All right, everyone. Let's pack it in!"

And we all live to dreamshare another day, Eames thought as he pasted a smile on his lips as he got up from his seat, stretching out his arms above him as his thoughts turned to the rest of the night. He'd promised to go to the pub with Hugh and Tasha after the work was done for the night, though unfortunately Emma and Arthur had declined to come too.

Speaking of his darling…

Walking over to where Arthur was still occupied on his laptop despite Tasha's earlier statement, Eames waited until the other man looked up at him before confirming that he didn't want to come with them again.

The look Arthur gave him spoke volumes.

"Then I'll see you in a couple hours? Your room?"

A searching look Eames wasn't entirely sure how to interpret, and then Arthur gave him a curt nod. "I just need another twenty here and then I should be able to head back to the hotel." And intentions stated Arthur's attention went back to his screen somehow defensively, Eames effectively dismissed.

Everyone else around them was shrugging on their coats and packing up for the day, Eames reluctantly following suit while casting backward glances in Arthur's direction, wondering if the fight with Emma earlier had bothered his darling more than he was letting on. Arthur was, after all, fond of Emma. Or at least he enjoyed working with her, which was more than his darling would say for the majority of their fellow dreamworkers. That on top of working with Hugh...

"Eames."

Surprised but pleased to be called back over, Eames leaned against the side of Arthur's desk and gave the other man a playful leer as he asked what he could do for him.

"Is Emma going with you all now?"

"No. Or at least I don't think she is." Like Arthur Eames glanced over in Emma's direction, noting that she was ready to go coat and bag wise, but appeared to be killing time fiddling with some paperwork on her husband's desk while he chatted with Tasha about where they should go.

"Will you see that she gets to her car all right for me? He won't."

"Of course, Darling." Eames didn't bother to come to Hugh's defense, especially since he had noted that his friend wasn't paying nearly as much attention to his wife's wellbeing as Eames would in his shoes. Of course the idea of being a parent also terrified him, while Hugh had another sprog already with his first wife. Maybe it was less nerve-wracking the second time round?

"Thank you."

It was so quick that Eames almost missed the soft look Arthur gave him before once again the younger man turned his attention back to his screen. "I'll see you when you get back. Shower first if you end up smoky and smelling of beer."

"Anything for you, Darling." And since snogging wasn't allowed while they were working Eames contented himself with a very quick stroke of his hand down Arthur's back. "Till later, then."

A brief glance in his direction, then Arthur's eyes went back to the screen.

Effectively dismissed yet again Eames rejoined the others, who all said their goodbyes to Arthur on their way out. Arthur returned the sentiment without looking up from the screen or stopping his fingers as they danced across his keyboard. Typical Arthur.

"For someone who dresses like a gentleman, he certainly is rude." Was Tasha's opinion once they were all out of Arthur's hearing. Smart girl.

"That's Arthur." Hugh rolled his eyes for emphasis.

Emma, meanwhile, surprised them all by suddenly stopping in her tracked in the narrow hallway leading out of the building.

"You all go ahead, I'm going to go back and apologize to Arthur for earlier."

"It's fine, Ems." Hugh assured his wife, waving his hand dismissively. "This is Arthur we're talking about here, Luv."

"No. It's not fine. He just had the guts to say what everyone was thinking. I have the car, I can drive myself back to the hotel or hitch a ride with him if need be. You all go."

While Arthur would never seriously lash out at a pregnant woman, he'd fear her going into labor and getting unmentionable liquids on his precious clothes, Eames could not see this being a good idea and expected Hugh to talk his wife out of her plan.

Only he didn't. Hugh, the prat, actually stated that if that was what she wanted that was fine since she wasn't coming with them to the pub anyway, and that he'd see her later. He was obviously in a hurry to leave, and was willing to throw his wife to the proverbial wolf if necessary.

"Emma, pet, I don't know if that's the best idea." Someone had to be the voice of reason here, even if that was not a role Eames was used to taking. "I'll tell him you're sorry for you. And he won't hold it against you, promise."

But no, Emma's expression said she'd made up her mind even before she stated that she was going to talk to Arthur. It wasn't like she was going with them to the pub like Hugh said, so they should just go and have their fun. She would see him tomorrow.

And so stating Emma marched back the way they'd come, Hugh just letting her go.

"Can't talk her out of things when she's like that. Not unless I want to sleep on the couch." Hugo gave a dismissive, 'what ya gonna do' shrug when Eames gave him a pointed look. "So let's go then. All the good tables will be taken if we don't hurry."

"Hell no." Was Tasha's response to that, a definite gleam in her eyes as she started after Emma. "We need to see how this goes down."

Cursing the fact that Tasha's presence would make it all that much worse, not better, Eames hurried after them with the thought that he was the one who would be sleeping alone tonight if they pissed Arthur off. Hugh, meanwhile, trailed along after them while muttering about how this was stupid and a bloody waste of time.

)

When they had all re-entered the main warehouse, and joined Tasha in hiding behind a group of long abandoned crates that provided them cover to hide behind, Eames saw that Arthur was still typing away on his laptop while Emma stood beside him and appeared to be waiting patiently for him to finish whatever he was doing. A dick move, that, Eames thought at he scowled at his darling for the social faux pax. She was pregnant and tired off her arse after all. Not to mention showing enough balls and class to apologize to Arthur, when there were plenty of hardened criminals that would be too terrified to even approach Arthur after they'd angered him.

"Thank you for waiting. What can I do for you?"

"I wanted to apologize for earlier. This pregnancy and not being able to work, well it's driving me a little mad. But you were just trying to help me, and I shouldn't have snapped at you. So I'm sorry."

Arthur studied her for a moment and then nodded his head. "Apology accepted. Though you shouldn't come back here tomorrow or for the rest of this job, Emma. She's only going to get worse."

"What…what are you talking about?" Emma stammered out, though something in her tone made it clear she knew exactly who Arthur was talking about.

"Tasha. It doesn't take a genius to see what she is." Arthur rose from his seat to stand facing Emma. "She's not in this for the money. She comes from money and quite a lot of it. She's in dreamshare for the rush she gets taking from other people. She's done it all her life. She gets off on taking things that belong to someone else, the more precious and loved the better. Hell, I've heard that she sends messages to her former marks sometimes, just to add salt to the wounds." Arthur's disgust was heavy in his voice. "And that sick rush she gets from hurting and taking from others is why she made it clear to me that she intends to sleep with Eames during this job, and told you that she's already made Hugh another notch on her bedpost to get this job. She's been delivering little digs to you all week, hasn't she?"

The look on Emma's face confirmed that fact, and when Eames turned his furious expression in his mate's direction Hugh at least had the decency to look a little shame faced while Tasha, Eames noted, just looked annoyed.

"She knows that I've refused to work with her in the past, and I've certainly made it clear I won't join the ranks of brain dead morons who let her lead them around by their dicks in this business. She just doesn't have the brains or intelligence to make me bleed, so she's going to take her anger out on you when that sinks in. That's why you need to get out of her line of fire. Her pathetic digs aren't going to hurt me the way they hurt you."

"Hugh wouldn't-"

"Spare me." Arthur cut in, no sympathy in his voice. "You married a manwhore. We all know it. You knew it when you slept with him when he was married to his last wife. I'm sure he fed you a great sob story about her, that's pretty standard for his kind, but at the end of the day you know that ring on your finger and the baby in your belly mean nothing to him. Hugh Donner will always put himself first, second, and third. Which is why I didn't want to take this fucking job in the first place." The last sentence was muttered just loud enough for the others to hear him.

"He…she…we're having a baby."

"Yes. And it's that baby you should be thinking about. Not him. Not you. The baby. The child you're going to raise one of two ways. Either the child will grow up thinking it's okay for their father to behave and treat you as he does, seriously upping the chances that they'll become an abuser or abused themselves, or you teach the boy or girl that it's not okay for someone to treat you, and by extent them, that way. And it is abuse, Emma. He's hurting you with his actions."

"You don't know what you're talking about…and you date Eames so who the hell are you to judge?! He sleeps with other people even though the two of you are dating too!"

"Eames and I sleep together. We're not dating. If we were he'd feel physically ill any time he even considered cheating on me, remembering the very detailed description I'd have given him about what would happen to him when I found out. And I would find out."

A loud sigh. "Emma. Every relationship has lines. Lines that can change as the relationship progresses, yes, but then there are lines that stay the same because they're set in stone. Non-negotiable. Smoker or non-smoker, for instances, could be a soft or a hard line depending on the person. Exclusive or not would be another. What matters to one couple doesn't always matter to another. The key is for all parties involved to KNOW where the lines are, and respect them. Eames and my 'relationship' has three hard lines, all of which I made clear to him at the start of our arrangement. He has never cared enough to establish any with me." A moment's pause. "You need to figure out your hard lines. And if Hugh can't respect them you need to respect yourself and dump him."

"I…I don't know what to do."

And so saying Emma burst into tears and all but threw herself at Arthur, who looking very uncomfortable wrapped his arms around her and let her cry on him.

)

Across the room Eames's thoughts were busy trying to process the two most important points related to him that Arthur had just mentioned. First and foremost, there had been something in Arthur's tone when he'd stated that Eames had never bothered to establish any lines with him that suggested that that fact at least bothered him, if not hurt his darling. Which would suggest, wouldn't it, that Arthur wanted them to have a relationship where lines were actually drawn on both sides? Maybe?

The other important bit of information was that apparently Arthur had laid down three hard lines when they'd started to sleep with each other, and Eames could only remember two. What if he did the third because he hadn't known it was a line? And what would Arthur do to him if he did? Dammit. No sleeping with anyone else while he was sleeping with Arthur, no sex or bringing up their sex life in the workplace, and….and? Double dammit!

"What a complete load of bullshit. I mean seriously, who does he think he is? Doctor Phil? Assehole." The exaggerated yawn of boredom Tasha made was as fake as Eames was quite sure her tits were. "Let's get going. This is so stupid. And I can't believe either one of you sleeps with that."

Mind still occupied trying to remember what that third line was, Eames looked to Hugh to at least come to Emma's defense. But it was a wasted effort, since it would appear that at least some of what Arthur had said had gotten through to his mate for once. Hugh actually looked like he might be experiencing some of the pain and worry his currently sobbing wife was feeling.

"Seriously. I so need a drink now." Tossing her hair back Tasha started walking away, only this time she turned around to give them a pout that wasn't at all attractive at the moment as she asked them if they weren't coming.

"Actually, I'll pass, thanks. You go have fun." Eames made his smile as insincere as possible. "Though by the by, Luv, I won't be sleeping with you. Ever. Now if you'll excuse me, I need to go save Arthur."

And so saying Eames strolled off to leave the two where they were, he was thinking they deserved each other at the moment, and making no effort to conceal himself headed straight for Arthur, who didn't seem remotely surprised to see him.

Of course he wasn't.

Not surprisingly Arthur was also quite happy to transfer Emma from his arms into Eames's, Eames taking over with the there, there's and the hair stroking while Arthur turned his attention to packing his stuff up for the night like there wasn't a woman crying her heart out a couple steps away from him.

Oh well. They all had their strengths. And weaknesses.


	2. Puzzling Things Out

Puzzling Things Out

Not being a sadist, Eames didn't enjoy having a weeping woman in his arms. Particularly a pregnant one with a problem he knew he could do nothing to solve. Because while he had no problem with the idea of beating some sense into Hugh, he was actually rather itching to do it at the moment, Eames also knew enough about human nature to know that while Hugh might stay on the straight and narrow to save his own skin for a while, his 'friend' would fall back into bad habits soon enough. People could change, he did believe that, but they had to want to change for themselves. It had to be their choice, and what they wanted, or the changes were only skin deep.

But even though he didn't enjoy dealing with emotionally overwrought women Eames also wasn't sure that he wanted Emma to go home alone, especially since the flat was Hugh's as well. Nor did he like the idea of letting her go off with her husband when the cheating bastard finally shuffled over to join them, Tasha thankfully nowhere in sight.

Arthur had finished packing up and had donned his coat, the look he aimed in Hugh's direction one Eames hoped never to see aimed in his direction. He had weathered his fair share of comments from their fellow dreamshare workers who asked if he was masochistic, sleeping with a man who so often ignored or treated him like a misbehaving toddler. And while he couldn't argue that Arthur did that, that was nothing to being looked at like he was nothing.

He'd take Arthur looking at him like he was an idiot any day.

The sight of her husband was enough incentive to have Emma fighting back any more tears, the girl showing a British true upper lip by wiping away the ones that still clung to her eyes and cheeks with the back of her hand, asking Hugh why he wasn't on his way to the pub.

"I…I thought…I should come make sure you were all right."

Emma's voice was hard, though Eames could feel the shudders coursing through her as he kept a steadying arm round her waist. "I might be bloody stupid where you're concerned, but I do know when you're lying to me. You what, came to watch the show?"

"Emma."

"What? I've misunderstood? It was an accident? She seduced you? You were pissed, and therefore can't be held responsible for your sodding actions again? Please. Spare me. I feel stupid and pathetic enough at the moment. Though not nearly as stupid and pathetic as a wanker like you."

Ouch. True. But ouch.

"Emma, would you like to use Eames hotel room for the night? Or for Hugh to do so. Eames won't be needing it."

Eames would have liked to have been consulted before his room was offered up, but since he would have been much happier if he and Arthur had shared a room from the start he wasn't about to complain.

"Thank you, Arthur, but I want to go home now." Turning her head to give Eames a thankful look, Emma silently conveyed that she had this as she slid out from his grasp. "As for you, Hugh, I don't give a rat's grimy, flea infested arse where you sleep tonight. I have more important things to think about. Like what's best for our child. And me."

And so saying Emma marched off the way they'd come, Hugh lagging behind as he was obviously torn between chasing after her and trying to act cool and collected in from of them after Emma and Arthur had verbally bitch slapped him into position.

Not being a complete fool Hugh knew he was no match for Arthur even on his best day though, so it didn't take him long to mumble a goodbye before he went running after his wife.

"Well that was…fuck. I don't know. What do you think she'll do?"

"Take him back."

Surprised, he hadn't expected Arthur to sound so sure, Eames asked why he was so sure.

"She still believes love can conquer all."

"And you don't think it can?" It didn't surprise him, but Eames found the idea sad as well.

Arthur's lips quirked ever so slightly. "I wouldn't say that Dumbledore was wrong to say that it was the most powerful magic of all. It's just that most people aren't capable of feeling it. At least not selflessly. And even when they do, well two people loving the other to the same depth of emotion…not even you would be-nevermind. You would absolutely bet on those odds."

Since he couldn't argue with that Eames offered to carry Arthur's laptop bag for him.

"Drop it and I will shoot you."

"So you've made very clear, Darling. Multiple times." Accepting the bag Eames slung it over his shoulder and then fell into step with Arthur as they headed out, glancing around as something occurred to him. "Tasha heard all that, and Hugh will probably back out as part of his appease Emma deal. I suppose the job's over now." Shit.

"I have all the information the client wanted. I'll send him the info and tell him that an opportunity presented itself and we moved our extraction schedule up accordingly. I'll share the profits with you since you got me involved in the first place."

"What do you mean, you already have the information?"

"A lot of what we retrieve is hackable information, Eames. No dreamwork required. Especially something as easy as this job." A brief look of annoyance. "And I won't have a black mark on my record because neither Hugh nor Tasha can keep their clothes on."

"Well at least neither of them will ever willingly work with you again."

"I only worked with them because of you."

It was on the tip of his tongue to say that he was flattered, or something equally flirty or flippant, but wisely Eames bit them back. He'd rather savor the words, even if the more cynical part of his brain pointed out that Arthur just meant that he wanted to cash in the favor he'd owed Eames to clear the slate.

"Will you leave tomorrow, if this is the end of it?"

"No. I have plans."

"Plans?"

"Plans." Arthur repeated back to him without elaborating as to what those plans were.

Eames could take a hint.

He went quiet for the rest of the walk out the building.

)

While being quiet Eames's mind had gone back to trying to figure out what the third hard line in his relationship with Arthur was, but he continued to draw a blank. Which actually threatened to make him break out into a cold sweat, since Eames did not want to fuck things up between them now that there was just a hint of light at the end of the tunnel. One that suggested that maybe, just maybe, they could be more then colleagues with benefits.

But he did come up with a way to possibly jog his own memory, while also getting some idea of what he would have to do, what lines he would have to respect, if he wanted a real relationship with his favorite point man.

"So Arthur, out of curiosity, what are your hard lines for a real relationship."

Arthur gave him a side glance before turning his attention back to the moderately busy road they were driving on. And was quiet long enough that Eames thought Arthur wasn't going to answer him.

"Monogamy. Honesty. Trustworthiness. Non-smoking. Sleeps only with me, is honest about he wants from and feels for me. About who he is and was. Trustworthy…that I feel I can trust him with myself. The non-smoking is self-explanatory."

Okay. None of that jogged his memory but all of it was perfect. Because he could do those things. Wanted all those things from Arthur, come to that, though if Arthur were a smoker he'd have been fine with that. Which raised the question of his own hard lines, which was something he'd never thought about before because frankly he'd never been in a serious relationship that required him to. And really he wasn't the type to think that way. He wasn't a planner like Arthur, who liked to set down rules so that everything was laid out all nice and neat.

Though in this case…Eames could see how it would be better to do that than jumping into things and learning on the fly.

"I guess…those are usually what people want from their partners. Or society says they should want. Aside from the smoking thing."

"Society is fucked up." Was Arthur's opinion. "And people don't know what they want because the world keeps telling them that the stupidest things are important instead of what actually is."

"Think I should come up with my list of hard lines?"

"Not for another couple of decades, no."

"Couple of decades?"

"By then you'll be past your prime." Arthur shrugged his shoulders a little. "You'll be out of the game for the most part, not traveling as much. You'll be in the right mindset to have relationships that last months instead of weeks at most."

Opening and closing his mouth, Eames didn't know where to start with that. "I will never be past my sodding prime!"

Arthur actually chuckled at him. "Oh I know you'll get plastic surgery, Eames. A mistake, by the way, but that won't save you from aging. It's unavoidable. Unless you get yourself killed before it becomes an issue. That's just as likely."

"You're laughing at the idea of me DYING?"

"No, Mr. Eames, I'm not." Arthur looked, really looked at him for a moment. "But I can't protect you all the time, now can I?"

"Protect me?"

"If you only knew." Was Arthur's cryptic reply. "And as for the rest, since you're primed to argue with me about it, don't. I know you. And I didn't mean it as an insult. It's what elevates you from a bottom feeder like Hugh Donner."

"You're going to have to explain the not being insulted to me, Arthur."

"Both of you want and need more than any one person can give you. So you go from person to person, place to place, seeking out the new because you need it. The difference is you don't make promises and commitments you don't intend to keep."

That was a little better, but not by much since Arthur was basically saying he saw Eames as…as someone who couldn't do real.

"Look, Eames…dammit. Give me a minute."

Willing to do that only because he was too angry to speak at the moment, Eames let the silence rest between them for the next couple of minutes until they were off the road and pulling into a parking spot outside their hotel.

Then Arthur turned off the car, undid his seatbelt, and then twisted slightly in his seat to face him. "Do you want to continue this conversation in here or in one of our rooms?"

"Since I'm guessing we'll be parting ways very soon, it might as well be here."

"Fuck."

"Oh no, Arthur, fuck you. Fuck you if we've known each other for six bloody years and that's what you think of me."

Arthur reached up to swipe a hand through his hair, which Eames knew was one of the top three indicators Arthur had when he was genuinely upset about something. The man did not mess with his hair once styled. "I wouldn't sleep with you if I didn't like and trust you."

"Is that so? Cause you're absolute shite at showing that."

"Eames…I don't know what to say. Or how to say it apparently. Nothing I said about you was meant as an insult. Except maybe the plastic surgery thing. Which isn't why you're really pissed at me."

Actually he was a little pissed about that, he had the bone structure to still look hot when he was old, thank you very much, but no, that wasn't why he was so angry, and explaining why he was so angry would mean revealing the fact that he'd been half in love with Arthur for years now, and had always hoped, in the back of his mind, that someday Arthur would see him as someone worth keeping around. Which, it seemed, was never going to happen, because he…

"So you think that I can't commit. That I'd cheat on you if we were in a real relationship?"

"Eames, you overheard my conversation with Emma, and you've known me for six years. If we were in a real relationship, you'd know to break up with me once you got tired of it. You're smart enough to know I don't make empty threats, which means you'd know I meant it when I said I'd dedicate myself to destroying your life if you fucked around on me."

Eames actually felt a cold shiver go down his spine. Arthur's tone and eyes, even in the dim light from the streetlamp above them…

Oh yeah, he meant it all right.

"Exactly."

"Had a bad experience with a lying cheat?"

"You could say that."

"Wanker."

"In a word." There was something in Arthur's small smile that spoke of deep emotion. "He had, still has, probably, this philosophy and how life's a chess match, and people are the pieces we use, discard, and manipulate to win. It's one of the few things we've ever had in common."

"You're a controlling arse sometimes, Arthur, but you aren't that bad."

"Thanks. Though the idea of people seeing other people as games or toys always made sense to me. Probably because of the sort of people I spend time with." The sound Arthur made was too dark to be a chuckle. "Hugh, for instance, definitely sees people the same way a spoiled child sees toys. He's attracted to the bright and shiny, usually wants what people tell him he can't have, and then either breaks or tosses them aside for the new. Maybe he has special ones he keeps around for whatever reason, like Emma, but he's always got an eye out for this year's must have new toy."

"I'll admit I'm struggling to remember why the two of us are mates. Hugh and I, I mean."

"Because you're loyal. And you knew him back when his behavior could be excused because he was a child at the time. Or at least young enough that his age was some excuse."

"Thanks, I think." Eames had to ask. "Do you think I see people that way?"

"No. You see people as puzzles. Some more complicated than others, both in terms of pieces or the picture they form as a whole. You like them all, though, and putting all those pieces together to understand how they work and who they are is right up there with sex for you. The more time and effort you have to put into it, the better."

"You've given that some thought."

"I have known you for six years."

)

So alright, that didn't sound too bad to him. Arthur was wrong about it being right up there with sex for him, or at least it didn't compare to the sex he had had with the man beside him, but Eames would admit that he found the human race fascinating and did love to find out what made them tick. He loved puzzles too. On the other hand, though, puzzles weren't meant to be played with over and over again. The point was to figure them out and then move on to the next puzzle, after breaking up the old one or maybe gluing the pieces together to make it something to hang on the wall for decoration, as his granddad had done when he was a lad.

"Have I insulted you again?"

"No."

"But?"

"But I don't like the way you seem to see me. Meaning to insult or not."

Arthur stared. Eames stared back.

Eames had no idea how much time passed before Arthur spoke up again, asking him to get out of the car.

Not arguing with that, sitting here exchanging looks with Arthur wasn't going to solve anything after all, Eames got out of the car and closed the door behind him. And then watched as Arthur came around the front of the car to his side.

"I wouldn't drop your laptop bag just to piss you off-"

Eames trailed off as Arthur moved into his personal space, the shock of it quadrupling when Arthur's arms came up and around him. Pulling him up against Arthur's chest in what was, unquestionably, a hug. Arthur was hugging him.

"Arthur?"

"Me talking is only making things worse. This is all I could think of."

"Ah." One to take advantage, Eames wrapped his own arms around Arthur's slender waist and leaned his cheek against Arthur's hair. Arthur would pull away soon enough, and he wanted to enjoy it as long as he could.

Only he didn't.

"You must really be sorry if you're willing to hug me."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"You aren't one to touch unless shagging is involved, Darling."

"Well then…here's a new puzzle piece for you. One of mine. I don't mind hugging, and I actually love cuddling. I just don't do either with most people for a variety of reasons. And before you ask, you've never tried to cuddle me before or after sex. And I didn't want you to get the wrong idea by initiating it myself."

Tightening his arms around Arthur's waist to insure he couldn't go anywhere, Eames asked what idea that was.

"That I expected more than sex from you."

It occurred to Eames that this was probably a perfect time to state that he did want more than sex, a lot more, but it was also the worst time because Arthur hadn't just handed him one new puzzle piece of himself, but several of them. Revealing ones that were fucking with his perceived picture of him in some really important ways.

He needed to give those pieces time to settle in, and Arthur time to be thinking about something other than cheating or them fighting, before he made a move.


End file.
